


Handsy

by Archer973



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Peter is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia has had it up to here with handsy werwolves</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handsy

It started out innocently enough, or at least as innocent as anything concerning Peter Hale could be. It was his hand brushing against hers as the pack poured over the schematics Stiles had somehow (illegally) acquired, the bump of his shoulders as he passed her, and the brush of fingers as he accepted a book from her.

But then it got bolder. Hands on her shoulders, thigh pressed against hers, body bracketing her smaller frame as he leaned over to look at a book. Lydia chocked it up to a combination of an acute desire to make people uncomfortable and the weird tactile nature that all the wolves seemed to possess.

That, however, was when she realized he was only doing it to her. Oh sure, he would posture with Derek, encroaching on his personal space when they were arguing (which was always). She’d seen him try that tactic once with Allison, but a swift encounter with the Taser Of Death (Stiles’ words, not hers) had quickly dissuaded him from that form of intimidation when it came to the hunter.

No, Lydia was the only one who seemed to be a recipient of the Bad Touch, as Stiles called it. At first she ignored it, thinking that if he didn’t get a rise out of her then he would eventually knock it off. But then she began to feel his hand ghosting from her back down onto her ass. And that was crossing a line.

She didn’t care if they had just broken Derek’s favorite coffee table while having some truly amazing hate sex, no one got to put a hand on her that she didn’t permit. And he was not the first guy who took her short skirts as an invitation for some unwanted groping.

If she raised a stink about it, however, he would just keep doing it. That was how Peter was. There was also the very real possibility that Scott and/or Derek would rip his hand off, and there was no way she was going to let those talented fingers get turned into chew toys. So instead she made a plan.

 

It was a couple of days before Lydia saw him again. She was wearing a short, flowy red skirt that she knew drove Peter crazy. The pack was meeting to discuss the newest threat to their lives, which actually wasn’t as bad as the other ones, thankfully. She purposely kept her back to him, waiting for him to take the bait.

The smell of cinnamon drifted by her and she knew that he was close. Sure enough, there was the weight of his hand on her back. She stayed still, waiting, trying to keep the smirk off her face.

The hand began to move downwards, ghosting along the soft fabric. Still she waited, letting him grow bold. Then she pressed the button on her new ring.

A yelp of pain came from behind her. Everyone stopped talking and looked at Peter. Lydia turned her head and couldn’t resist grinning at the sight of him holding his hand, looking both surprised and offended.

“Is there a problem, Peter?” Scott asked, glowering at the older wolf. Peter massaged his fingers, glaring at Lydia, who only smiled back innocently.

“No problem,” he finally answered sulkily. Lydia bit her lip to keep herself from laughing at his wounded expression. She glanced at Allison, who was grinning, and winked, making the hunter let out a snort of laughter that she vainly tried to turn into a cough.

It wasn’t until later, after the meeting broke up, that Lydia found herself pinned up against the wall by a rather irate Peter. She looked at him, hips cocked and one eyebrow raised, and noticed that he was keeping a very careful distance from her skirt.

“Yes?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything. “Can I help you with something?”

“Electric wire in the skirt, hmm?” Peter inquired, running his eyes down Lydia’s body, tongue coming out to lick his lips.

“Very good for dealing with handsy werewolves,” Lydia replied sweetly, stepping forward and tilting her head up. She could see Peter’s pupils dilate as he leaned down for a kiss. She smiled… then pushed past him, walking away. There was a moment of silence, then she heard footsteps.

Lydia grinned. Know what the best way to make sure psychotic, ex-Alpha werewolves stay interested is?

Make them want to chase you.


End file.
